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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25044922">Old Habits, New Growths</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/alex_kade/pseuds/alex_kade'>alex_kade</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnificent Seven (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Family, Friendship, Gen, Growth, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Trust</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:07:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,087</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25044922</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/alex_kade/pseuds/alex_kade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ezra runs into some trouble that isn't entirely unexpected, but things aren't like what they used to be.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Old Habits, New Growths</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“How many times...have you been warned, Standish?” Ezra grumbled as he dragged himself off the ground. He had to lean against the wall of the livery for a few moments as he caught his breath, his ribs aching from the beating he’d just taken. He felt warmth trickling down into the corner of his eye from presumably a split brow, and that clean punch to his kidney hadn’t made matters any better. Ezra had always taken pride in his ability to scrap with the best of them despite his upbringing as a proper gentleman, but one against three was hardly good enough odds to defend himself from that many angry fists. At least they hadn’t resorted to kicking him, small mercies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Checking his balance to make certain he wasn’t going to fall flat on his face or backside, either of which would have been equally embarrassing, he shuffled his way over to the bottom of the clinic stairs. Really, they needed to do something about that; it was beyond his comprehension why their town’s place of healing sat at the top of a climb that was impossible for any person who truly needed the services to achieve. He most certainly didn’t feel up to dragging himself up there now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nathan,” he croaked out, one hand clinging to the banister while the other stayed firmly wrapped around his aching midsection. When no answer came he tried just a little louder, hoping it wasn’t too much to wake the entire town. The hour was much too late for any person who was not a gambler or a reprobate (or both) to be conscious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t help but smile when he saw soft light filter through a window followed by the door creaking open. “Ezra?” their resident healer called out, voice thick with sleep and yet also somehow fully alert. Ezra always marveled at that a little bit, the instincts of a medic taking over even when the body was still trying to catch up to being aware. The only time </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> ever snapped fully awake was when his slumber was disturbed by gunfire or a threat thereof.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please forgive the late hour,” he started, smiling up at Nathan more than a bit ruefully. “I have met some...misfortune and am in need of your services.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no hesitation as Nathan nearly flew down the stairs and draped the gambler’s arm over his shoulder, mindful of the way he was holding his ribs. “You bleedin’ anywhere besides that eye?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ezra merely shook his head for the duration of the climb, his teeth clenched too tightly together on the way up to risk words. “Not...that I’m aware of,” he panted out once his feet were on the level boards of the second story walkway. Once Nathan got him inside and settled on the bed, the injured man began easing out of his layers while the healer got some water and bandages ready. And notably a needle. Damn. That meant there’d be stitches, which meant a scar. Oh well. He supposed a scar on the brow could be considered roguish in a handsome way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold on now,” Nathan gently chastised as Ezra hissed while trying to get his arms free of his sleeves. He was at the conman’s side in an instant, careful in the way he peeled off the shirt and shaking his head at the bruising that was already beginning to form. “I’m gonna have to press on these some, make sure nothing’s broke under there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sounded apologetic, but this wasn’t the first nor the last time the grifter would have a run-in with someone else’s fists. The routine was well and truly known by now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This something the rest of us need to worry about?” the healer spoke by way of distracting Ezra from his prodding. Careful as it was, it was still a painful process and Standish appreciated having something else to focus on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Much like he’d done on the stairs, he shook his head through the worst of the pain, only speaking once he was sure his words wouldn’t be cut short by any untoward reactions to the doctoring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, my friend,” he sighed. “This unfortunate circumstance was the foretold result of a too-profitable evening at the tables.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Knew that was gonna happen one of these days,” Nathan tsked lightly as he moved on to cleaning up Ezra’s eye. “They take your money?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gambler sighed again, sitting as still as he could while his fellow lawman worked swiftly to patch him up. “Sadly, yes. More than what they lost, in fact. Nothing but cretinous scoundrels.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A frown crossed Nathan’s face as he grasped Ezra’s hand and pressed it over the cloth against his brow, a silent command to hold it there while he got the needle threaded. “You wanna take anything for the pain before I do this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Thank you, Mr. Jackson.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat quietly for the next several minutes while Nathan worked, keeping the stitches as small as possible without having to be told. Ezra trusted him in that without question as all his friends knew how much he valued his appearance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You get names?” the healer asked once he was done, dabbing at the wound to clean it up one more time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time Ezra finally flashed a smile. “Indeed I did. Names, faces, and next known whereabouts are often among the information I require myself to collect as part of polite conversation during gameplay. I prefer to be prepared in the case of just such misfortune as befell me tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nathan returned the smile as he moved to wrap the wounded man’s ribs. He hadn’t mentioned any breaks and didn’t move with any urgency, so Ezra felt safe to assume he was merely bruised with no concerning injuries on the inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fill me in? I’ll let Chris know the details in the morning and we’ll go get your money back,” Nathan informed him with utmost certainty. “You’re gonna be sore for a few days now. You know what you need to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ezra nodded, waiting patiently for Nathan to finish tying him off before helping him back into his jacket. The shirt and vest weren’t necessary as he was only planning to slip into his nightshirt once he returned home anyway. “Plenty of bedrest and water to flush the kidney, avoid sitting my faithful mount for the next two days at least, no fast or excessive movements, and certainly no more altercations until my ribs have ceased groaning at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And?” Nathan prompted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And come find you immediately should any of my discomforts become more, well, uncomfortable. Outside of the normal aches, that is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nathan smiled and gripped his friend’s shoulder for a moment. “That’s just right, Ezra. Now tell me about these men, then I’ll let you go get yourself settled.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so he did, not leaving out a single detail in regards to the game or the subsequent attack after. He’d learned long ago that he didn’t need to hide anything anymore; the other six trusted that he didn’t cheat, and he trusted them to have his back when trouble called his name. He didn’t worry about putting them out, or try to argue against them going to bring justice down upon his assailants. He would and had done the same for them many times, as any of them would do for the other. They’d all learned long ago it was easier and oftentimes less painful to just agree and trust in one another’s special talents, along with their desires to avenge one another in the occurrence of any wrongdoing. They were family and this was simply what family did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the account of the evening’s events was through, Nathan helped Ezra back down the stairs and stood there to make sure the injured man got to his building without further incident. Ezra gave him a little tip of the hat before going through the door and gingerly made his way up to his feather bed. No one would come pounding on his door in the morning because he knew Nathan would have been kind enough to spread word of his condition, so he simply eased back into the pillows and let himself sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stayed in bed until nearly lunch the following day, only rousing when a soft knock came at his door. “Brought you something to eat, Ezra. You decent?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nathan poked his head in before the answer came because, honestly, the healer had already seen every part of the other six men enough times over where it didn’t matter anymore. Ezra stayed exactly where he was until his friend could help him sit up against the pillows, knowing the soreness would be worse now than the night before with the bruising having settled overnight. He set the little food tray on the gambler’s lap after he took a moment to check his injuries over again, then sat back, knowing Ezra could eat without further assistance. His ribs hurt, but not enough where he couldn’t lift a spoon to his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he smiled as he began to take careful sips of the hot stew. “Were you gentlemen able to locate the miscreants responsible for my current miserable state?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” the healer frowned. “They already spent a lot of that money though. Chris is workin’ on trying to return what they bought so you can get at least half of it back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That made Ezra laugh lightly and shake his head. “I hope he isn’t terrorizing anybody too badly. It’s not the fault of the store from whence a customer’s funds hail.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but you should at least get back the money that was yours to begin with. They had no right to steal what you didn’t win off them.” Nathan’s brow furled as he shook his head. “Not that they had a right to steal that either. That’s not what I—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand what you’re saying,” Ezra grinned. “Worry not, my friend. Had they only taken what was lost, it would have been more forgivable. They didn’t believe I played fairly, which is an accusation I am all too familiar with. But taking everything on my person above and beyond their losses—what they could find, anyway—now that was just plain burglary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. Well, they’re in jail for it now. Judge’ll figure out what to do with them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They fell into a companionable silence while Ezra finished eating, then Nathan helped him lay back down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think you’ll be joining us downstairs for supper later?” he asked, just another way to gauge how badly Ezra was feeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Southerner thought on it for a moment, trying to decide the same for himself. “I believe I’ll be able to manage. Perhaps, if he isn’t otherwise occupied, you could send Josiah up to shadow me in case my body should disagree with my assessment?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure he’ll be happy to help.” Nathan patted his leg and gathered the tray to take with him. “Get some more sleep and we’ll see you tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I look forward to it, Nathan. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he did sleep, and he did join them for a meal and good company later after Josiah guided him down the stairs, and he smiled brightly as Chris presented him with just about all the money he had lost; the rest didn’t really matter that much because the thought was there at least. And not once during all of this incident did he assume his friends would think poorly of him, and not once did he do anything that would make the healer’s job more difficult, and not once did he think he didn’t deserve the care the others were giving him. That was all in the past, all the doubts and distrust and arguments and generally feeling like he had to hide himself from everyone, that was over. He was still very much the cunning, creative, mischievous, sometimes a little bit too materialistic, sometimes a little bit too uppity man that he always was, but he was also now the most </span>
  <em>
    <span>himself</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’d ever been, the real man underneath all the flash and bravado. And in that dusty little town where he earned a dollar a day keeping people like his old self from taking advantage of the simple people who lived there, he was the happiest he had ever been in his life. He hurt, he was missing some money, but even with all that, he genuinely wouldn’t change a thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>End</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Idk. It's my first M7 fic in...well, since I stepped back from the fandom years ago. My mental health is in a far better state than it was then and I thought it was time to spread some of that healing to Ezra. I've never been a criminal of any sort, but I've always felt a connection to his character, particularly in the fanfics where he often assumes he needs to hide his pain, and sacrifices himself for others without care for how it affects him personally, and particularly a heavy feeling of worthlessness. But taken away from the fake friends and the toxic family members, and put with the right group, it gets easier over time to understand what being the victim of emotional trauma means, and to realize it's okay to trust people and to lean on them. Not everyone is out to tear you down, no matter how it seems sometimes. I guess I just wanted to fastforward in time a little bit for Ezra where he's already figured that out, where he's long since reached that point of acceptance and understanding. I'm still very much working my way there, but I thought I'd give him a head start. Because, you know, if he can get there, so can I.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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